“Dear God.” Allan moved away to the door.
“What? Where are you going?”
“To your father’s house, to see this man myself.”
“What? Allan, no!” she cried out so loudly that he couldn’t help freezing, his hand on the door handle.
“Freddie, this is disgusting,” he said darkly. “How can I stand by when you are treated this way?”
“I will not go there again,” she pleaded, “but please, do not go to them. Do not see him.”
“Why not?” Allan turned to face her sharply. She had half risen out of her chair in her panic, the brandy glass shaking in her hand. “He deserves pain for this.”
“Not from us —”
“Then who else from!?”
“Allan, please!” she begged, her voice reaching new octaves of panic. “Please, just stay here. I implore you, stay here.”
When she begged him, he couldn’t refuse her. What kind of husband would he be then?
He released his hold on the door, and she capitulated back into her chair. He moved toward her, taking the stool again though he struggled to sit still.
“You should not be made this miserable, least of all by your parents,” he grumbled.
“It is the way of things.”
“How can you say that so nonchalantly?”
She sniffed but didn’t answer, mopping her cheeks instead.
“Freddie,” he began slowly. “Please don’t go there alone again. Who knows how many times he will go to that house with a plan to get you alone.”
“I promise not to go again.” She nodded hurriedly. “I have no wish to, definitely not alone.” She raised her glass to her lips and took another shaky sip. “That will teach me to hope, won’t it?”
“Hope?”
“To hope for understanding between me and my parents, to hope that I would be worthy of something in their eyes.”
“Please don’t talk in such a disparaging way.” He leaned toward her, but when he noticed her wide eyes, he retreated again.
She was like a spooked mouse. Every time he tried to get near her, she pulled back from him. It made him yearn to protect her even more than before, to somehow snatch all the pain and darkness away.
How I wish I could see her smiling again.
“You deserve to be happy,” he whispered to her, speaking slowly, for he feared her reaction. “You deserve their apology, too. If I could cast a spell and make them give you that apology, believe me, I would.”
She smiled, ever so slightly though it faded fast.
“You are too good of heart, Allan.”
“Too good? Surely such a thing doesn’t exist,” he laughed gently. That happy air between them was momentary though. It soon faded to something serious in the quiet. “I want you to be happy here, so I beg you, do not dwell on your parents. Think of other things, do things that make you smile, and forget them and this man.”
“You think I could?”
“Of course, I do, and another thing…” He took the risk and leaned forward an inch in the hope of catching her gaze. It worked, for she looked up from the brandy glass and stared straight back at him. “If you ever see him again — if he ever frightens you again — tell me.”
She didn’t nod right away, but eventually, she did.
